


After Frank Left

by hollyharley



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking and Entering, CPTSD, CSA, Crime Solving, F/M, Gen, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Abuse, especially in the last half, the author is using fanfic to cope yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24958540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyharley/pseuds/hollyharley
Summary: Juliet isn't twelve anymore.So why is she still scared?-A terrible crime forces Juliet O'Hara to confront her past. Can she heal and solve a murder in the process?Complete! Set S7-S8 (for Shawn's Reveal's sake).
Relationships: Burton "Gus" Guster & Shawn Spencer, Carlton Lassiter & Juliet O'Hara, Juliet O'Hara & Karen Vick, Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	1. THEN: Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Big TW: child sexual abuse, referenced sexual harassment, referenced child death.
> 
> There will also be warnings at the beginning of the chapters, and I try to include all possibly triggering things there. _However, if you have a specific trigger, feel free to ask in the comments (anon is available) or message me on tumblr (hollypurcellhurts)._
> 
> Word count is also at the beginning of each chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 585 (note: word count varies greatly between chapters)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: abandonment, being drunk and passed out, implied (future) child abuse

There were many reasons Juliet hated her father. For starters, he had abandoned her entire family without a trace. He had missed all of her softball games, dance recitals, and award ceremonies. He hadn’t been there when her brother’s appendix had burst or when her aunt had died. She had waited for him throughout her childhood, looking out onto the street late into the night during the holidays, hoping her father would come home. He had left her two brothers without a father, her mother without a husband. He had left the four of them to struggle on the nonexistent income of a housewife. She hated him for all the things he failed to do. For all the things he left them with. 

But the biggest reason she despised her father was something she had never told anyone. The biggest reason was Al.

** Miami, 1992-1994  **

The first boyfriend her mother had after Frank was Joe. Joe was a banker. They’d met two years after Frank disappeared, when her mother went to bank, naturally, and broke down in frustration of having to deal with a bank account being picked a part by government officials. He had helped Juliet’s mother a great deal, and they dated for nearly a year until he was arrested for embezzlement.

When Joe left, the family seemed to mourn. He had not been their father, yes, but he had been a man who kept their lives together. A man who loved their mother, who bought Juliet her dance shoes, who took the boys to baseball games. Stable. Safe. When he was taken to jail, Juliet thought she would never trust another man again. But one night, her mother came home with someone she’d met at the bar. Al, who reeked of booze but still had a clarity in his eyes, crouched down to where 12 year old Juliet sat on the floor, dozing off in front of a box television.

“Hey, Jay.” He said, gently touching her shoulder. She awoke to find her mother passed out on the couch and became alert at once. He patted her knee. “It’s okay. Your mom told me about you, Juliet. She had a little too much to drink.” He chuckled. Juliet nodded. Alcohol had become a close friend to her mother after her father had left. Even more so, now that Joe was in jail. Despite the explanation, she was still wary. She was young, but she was also a girl. A woman. Her mother had told her what happens to women. But a violent man wouldn’t have brought her mother home, right?

“I was going to put her in bed. Where’s the bedroom?” Juliet, not knowing what else to do, watched as he picked her mother’s sleeping figure off the couch and led him to the bedroom. He gently set her mother on the bed and kissed her mother's forehead. It was a kindness Juliet longed for, so this was the moment she decided to trust him. At least a little.

That was a big mistake.

Al wrote a note to her mother, left it on the bedside table, and left with a wink at Juliet. Maybe Al was the type of man that everyone in the family had been longing for. The third time's the charm, right? She went to sleep feeling hopeful. She woke up when the doorbell rang.

It was Al, again, holding a fast food feast of pancakes and sausages. And just like that, Juliet’s mother had a new boyfriend.


	2. NOW: Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 952

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: references to child sexual abuse and child death, panic attack/flashback

Juliet O'Hara put her head in her hands. Deep breath in. Wait. 1... 2... 3... and out. In. 1... 2... 3.. and out. Repeat. After a couple of minutes, she rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, washed her face at the sink, and exited the otherwise empty bathroom. She entered the precinct, and without a glace to her desk and the papers that sat upon it, walked swiftly into the chief's office. She heard Lassiter call out her name with a hint of annoyance, which was understandable, as time was of the essence- their case was being monitored by the mayor, along side everyone in California, after all- and ignored him, shutting the door.

Chief Vick glanced up from her paperwork. "Chief." Juliet clasped her hands together and gave her best smile. It came out crooked, and she knew that her eyes, still puffy even though she had held them under the cold tap water only moments ago, further disheveled her appearance. Chief Vick squinted and then set her papers down. 

"Yes, Detective O'Hara?"

Juliet pressed her lips together and looked away from her chief's gaze. Suddenly, she felt like a sham. The business-professional dress shirt and pinstripe jacket, the pants, the shoes. The way her hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail. Her gun and badge which rested on her hip. She was not a police detective; she wasn't even an adult. She was nothing more than a naked 12 year old girl.

"I..." She had planned to come into this office and spit it out: _I cannot work this case, Chief Vick. It is in the best interest of everyone involved, especially the girl's parents, if I am reassigned._ Instead of saying this, she looked down to avoid Vick’s gaze. On the Chief’s desk were the Johnson case photos. A school photo of a 10 year old girl, smiling brightly. A photo of her corpse. Naked. Underwear found near the crime scene with little pink flowers, so festive and so out of place. Her knees were wounded. She had been on her knees. Juliet kneeling. A young blonde girl with pigtails, her underwear laid so gently on the floor. No. The hands. No! The body, her body- bare so bare. Thighs- open. And she was so, so scared. NO! NO!

"NO!" Juliet shut her eyes and crouched down, barely aware of her surroundings. Reality blurred. Her body was a crime scene. He was going to hurt her. "NO! NO! NO!" She curled into a ball on the office floor and covered her head with her hands. He was going to hurt her. He was going to hurt her. She heard a shuffle. The blinds being closed. Steps toward her. He was going to hurt her. A hand gently touched her arm, and she recoiled, her chest heaving. Inoutinoutinout. _Hey, Jay._ No! She rocked back and forth, letting out a whimper. She didn't want him to hurt her again! Please. Not again. Not again! “No!” 

"O'Hara" A soft voice. No! No! No!

"Juliet?" It was a woman. She felt the wood floor under her. This was not her childhood bedroom. Her rocking slowed. "Juliet," the voice repeated. Her muscles stayed rigid, but she slowly looked up to see Chief Vick crouched in front of her, eyebrows furrowed with worry. This was not the strong-willed detective she was used to interacting with, no doubt.

"Juliet, you can go home. I'm giving you a week off, and you will no longer be assigned the Johnson case. All right?"

Juliet squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them. "I'm sorry, Chief." It came out hoarsely. As her true surroundings settled around her, she began to feel embarrassed. Shame slinked up from her heart and choked her throat. The entire precinct could have heard her. The chief had seen her like this! After keeping what had happened a guarded secret for so long, it upset her to think so many people have pieces to such a disgusting, repulsive puzzle. Chief Vick stood and offered a hand to Juliet, who instead stood by herself. She tried to stand confidently but failed, feeling the need to cover her chest with her arms. 

"Detective O'Hara, I want you to take care of yourself. There is no reason for you to apologize, and if you need something more long-term, I want you to tell me. Understood?"  
Juliet nodded curtly. 

"You may collect your things now, Detective." 

"Thank you, Chief." 

Juliet left the office. Aware of the glances many of the officers in the precinct gave her, she kept her head down and walked to her desk. 

"Juliet, what-" Lassiter started. He was looking at her intently, a rare gesture of sympathy for her partner. It seemed to swell in her chest.

"Carton." Her voice trembled. Vick's kind eyes. Lassiter's worry. Her memories of... _Him_. It was all too much. She gripped the edge of the desk. "I'm getting a week off." She closed to case files on her desk while looking away, not wanting to see the pictures, and handed it to him. "Good luck on the case, okay?" 

He looked at her questioningly for a moment. "Okay," he said, taking the file. Juliet grabbed the rest of her things and put them in her bag. She pushed in her chair and turned to leave.

"O'Hara." She turned to Lassiter. "If you need to talk, call me." She looked into his eyes for a second. Lassiter definitely wasn't perfect. He loved shooting people and hated discussing affordable healthcare a little too much for her liking. But he cared for her.

"Thanks, Lassiter." She took a deep breath, and then left the precinct without another word.


	3. THEN: Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 119

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of vomit, CSA, and grooming

She doesn’t remember everything, but she remembers the way His hands touched her left thigh. How His fingers squeezed and her skin folded under them. How the same hand touched her and himself.

She remembers her burning shame. Her physical pain. The vomit in the toilet bowl nothing more than stomach acid. 

She remembers that before any of it started, a week after he had brought her mother home, Al had attended her dance recital. He was holding hands with her mother and smiling up at her. He cheered the loudest when she bowed, yelling playfully for an encore. When he said "Hey, Jay!" and gifted her a small bouquet of flowers, she didn't feel afraid. She felt special.


	4. NOW: Talk Shows, Tigger, and Tacos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juliet goes home.  
> -  
> word count: 1372

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: references to child sexual abuse and child death  
> also vegan meat :P

Luckily, Shawn wasn’t home. Shakily driving to her house had zapped up the little energy Juliet had left after her... panic attack? Whatever it was called, she was in no position to talk to anyone- much less her boyfriend. Discussion with him required sarcasm, movie references, love, and touch. She usually looked forward to those things. But right now, she was exhausted. She also felt like if anyone touched her, she would punch them in the face. 

Or maybe just cry until they stopped. 

This thought angered her. She wasn't twelve anymore. Why was she still scared? She had avoided thinking about Him for over a decade. She had moved on from it all- from talking with a psychologist in college; from the police investigation; and most importantly, from the (alleged) crime.

To be completely honest, Juliet had no intention of ever thinking about Him- or even his name- again. She had locked those memories up and thrown them into an imaginary Challenger Deep. Her main coping mechanism was avoidance, and the fact that she’d lost her shit in the chief’s office wasn’t about to change her mind about its effectiveness.

So she didn’t think about her “abuser” OR the Johnson case OR the fact that she had a week off. She just changed into her off-day clothes, grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet, and hunkered down on her couch. It was time to watch something mindless. And to not think about Him.

She flipped through the over-the-air channels. Thank God she had installed that satellite. Elmo? Nope. Cooking show? Eh. Santa Barbara news? HELL no. Talk show? Nah. Sitco- wait.

She clicked the remote and went back to the talk show. The set up itself- a pair of white women taking- was nothing special, but what had caught her eye was the picture on the screen behind them.

A little blonde girl with pigtails grinned at the camera. She stood beside a car in the parking lot of an elementary school. A backpack hung over her shoulder. She was holding up five fingers: meaning fifth grade. Juliet hasn’t seen this picture; the only photo in the files of the girl alive was one from last year's yearbook. In this photo, it was clearly the first day of school. A happy day. The girl had no idea what was coming. She had no idea that in two months, she would be dead.

Juliet wanted to change the channel, but it was too late. She was frozen, staring at the girl. Lassiter said to avoid calling her by her name and instead refer to her as “the victim." It was to keep their emotions from running high and distracting them; dehumanizing her the same way the killer did, but for a very different reason. 

She remembered this as she started to cry.

The women of the talk show chattered.

**Woman 1:** _The investigation has been going on for a week now, since Millie was found. Yet there’s been no arrests and little information from the police!_

**Woman 2:** _Well, Kelli, I don’t think that’s completely fair. According to... Chief Vick of the Santa Barbara Police Department, there’s been city wide efforts to solve the murder. Don’t you think we should give them some time?_

**Woman 1:** _Millie was missing for three days! If we can’t trust the cops to do their jobs, what do we do? This young girl was brutally violated and then murdered..._

Violated. 

Juliet was a terrified deer in the headlights. A fish stuck in a net. Her hands moved for her. Grab remote. Turn off television. Put remote down. Stand. Close blinds. Make sure door is locked. Curl up in the corner of the couch. Grab pillow. 

Scream into pillow. 

-

A noise made Juliet stop screaming- or rather, whimpering, which the screaming had devolved into. She stood. For a moment, she was unable to place the sound. She followed it into the kitchen. It was her phone, buzzing. Her purse was on the counter, where she had discarded it hours ago. 

_Hey, Jay._

She rummaged through her purse, pulling her phone out the very moment it stopped vibrating. A second later, the screen flashed. 

**Shawn Spencer ❤️**  
Missed Call (1) 

Suddenly, she desperately wanted to tell him everything so he could comfort her. She wanted him to tell her it wasn't her fault. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to stroke her hair and keep her safe. 

But she could never tell.

A heaviness seemed to weigh her bones down. Juliet checked the time. It was 6 PM; too early to sleep. It was in moments like these when she missed her cats the most. From the day she got them both as a beat cop in Miami to the day Gizmo died, they had been able to sense when she was upset. Tigger, otherwise a very unaffectionate cat, would curl up on Juliet's lap. Gizmo would let her stroke his back, and neither ran away when she cried. They had helped her get through her life in Miami and through her move. They didn't judge her or turn away in disgust, no matter what happened. No matter what she let happen. 

When Tigger died, Gizmo helped her through the grief. When Gizmo died, it was Carlton who helped her hold a kitty funeral. 

Carlton. How sweet he secretly was. He had helped cover the grave in her backyard and found the stone that now marked it. He had hugged her; something that was rare for him to do with anyone. Yet he had hugged her when Gizmo died. He had hugged her after saving her from Yin. She had held her as she sobbed. He was her friend, and for the second time, the need to tell screamed in every single one of her cells. She closed her eyes, imagining Carlton's concerned face. Imagining Shawn kissing her forehead and letting her cry in his arms. She wanted to tell. She wanted them to know. She wanted them to be here in her pain with her because what kind of monster rapes a TWELVE YEAR OLD GIRL? What kind of monster sees innocence and desire for paternal love and uses it to get off? Why did he choose her? Why did he hurt her?

Why did she let him?

The shame, anger, and disgust was too much. She was so, so tired from today. She walked to her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed. Putting her phone on the nightstand, she laid her head down. She felt the blissful pulls of sleep begin to tug at her when **_Ping!_ **

Juliet flinched. Her shoulders jerked up to her ears ears; her face twisted. Fuck! She felt like she was suffocating. 

She sat up and tried to catch her breath. In. 1... 2... 3.. and out. In. 1... 2... 3.. and out. In. 1... 2... 3.. and out. It was just an alert on her phone. A text. Telling herself this meant nothing to her body, which perceived the noise as a threat and her physical reaction something that would keep her safe. _Fucking stupid,_ she thought. She had been so close to oblivion. So close. 

_Good girl._

The muscles in her shoulders still tense, she checked her phone.

**Shawn Spencer ❤️**  
U didnt answer so i chose the taco truck. Last chance to tell me what u want or im getting vegan meat!!!!!!!!!!!! 🤮🤮🤮  


The message and her boyfriend's erroneous grammar skills let her relax enough for her shoulders to drop. A small smile grew. He was such a goof. A goof she loved.

_You're such a slut. No one will ever love you._

Her smile dropped. She could feel a hand on her leg. If she ate a taco right now, she would probably throw up, even if it was made of real meat. _Hey, Jay._

She texted Shawn back. The ghost of His hand stroked her thigh. _Sorry. Can't. Hang out with Gus?_

Juliet didn't wait for an answer. She set her phone on silent. Leaving it on the nightstand, she grabbed her blanket and pillow and lay down in her closet, closing the door shut. 

Finally, she went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what Juliet named her cat after 👀 !  
> 


	5. THEN: The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1275

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: child sexual abuse. most graphic chapter.
> 
> (It is not glorified, but please keep safe. YOU CAN SKIP THIS CHAPTER and still understand the story 💜)

** Miami, 1994  **

“Juliet Lynn, if you don’t come down here we’re going to be late! I’m tired of waiting for you!”

Juliet didn’t move from her hiding place. She could hear the murmurs of conversation coming from downstairs. She was as quiet as a mouse, quieter than she was when playing hide and seek with Ewan and Jacob, yet she couldn't make out what was being said. She bit her lip. This was her safe spot. She hadn’t left it since last night. She didn’t want to ever leave.

She heard Al's cheery voice. “Bye, Maryanne!” There was scuffling- her brothers’ baseball cleats. The front door slammed shut. 

_No!_ She stood and flung open the creaky closet door, running towards the stairs. 

She threw herself down the stairs, her hand gripping the railing to stop from falling face first onto the carpeted steps. ”Mommy!” She ran towards the front door when she felt hands around her waist, lifting her up, up, up.

"Mommy? Really, Jay?" He wrapped his arms around her and carried her through the sun room to the window. He peered out and then pulled the curtain aside, pressing Juliet against the windowsill. She could see her mother's Chrysler driving away, and she could feel His body against her back. He chuckled. 

"You know you're a little too old to be calling her that." He stroked the top of her head, which would almost be kind, if He wasn't who He was. She struggled against Him, but He pinned her against the window. 

She wished the old minivan would break down so her mother would have to come back, but it didn't. She wished He was kind and gentle and sweet, but he wasn’t. She wished she could fight Him like Wonder Woman fought the bad guys on the reruns, but she couldn’t. 

She squirmed, and He pressed her against the window even more. The windowsill was being forced into her stomach from the weight. It hurt. He was going to hurt her just like he had hurt her once already. She didn't want it to happen again. 

If only she could run to her closet! That had worked last night. She clung to the safety her closet had brought her. She would wait. Yes. She would wait until He let her go and then she would run. She would run faster than the Road Runner- to the stairs then to her room and then to her closet, where she would be safe! 

First, she needed to get closer to the stairs. So for now, she did nothing. 

He pulled the curtains closed and dragged her into the living room. He stayed standing, rubbing her stomach, holding her close. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. The stairs were not even a foot to her right. She was so close. She wanted to make a run for it. _Wait, Jewel._ She could hear her father’s voice. _Wait until his guard is down._

Suddenly, she was thrown onto the couch. "Whatcha thinking about, Jay!?" She let out a whimper and avoided His gaze. 

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look into His eyes. "I know you were thinking about something." She began to shake. What was she going to tell Him? She just wanted her... 

"Mommy," she whispered. She wanted her mom. 

He snorted and sat beside her, kissing the side of her forehead. "Oh, Jay. She will never forgive you for what you've done." He grabbed her hand and placed it between his thighs. She closed her eyes. _Not yet, Jewel. Not yet._

He moved her hand up and down. She could feel His breath against her cheek. "You're such a slut. No one will ever love you." She felt stiffening under His pants and had to fight a wave of nausea. He shifted even closer, and she could feel His lips against her ear. "Not your mom. Not your brothers. No one will ever love you except me, Jay." She prayed to any god or spirit listening. _Please._

It seemed like someone heard her because the telephone rang.

She opened her eyes to see Him clench His jaw in frustration. He stood, walked to the kitchen, and pick up the landline. Juliet thought about screaming, but what He said stopped her. She was a slut: she was on her own. 

"Hey, baby. It's two, shouldn't the game have... Aw, buses are always shit. Those school districts keep all the money to themselves... Yeah... You know how girls her age are. It's okay. She's been in her room the whole time. I don't know what's gotten into her. Anyways, don't worry about it, baby. How're the boys doing?"

_Jewel. Now._

Juliet ran. "Jay!" His voice was sharp. Fear burst through her; it made her run even faster up the stairs. "Nothing. Nothing, baby. Preteens." She tried to ignore him as ran into her bedroom. _Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe._ She leapt into her closet and slammed the door shut. She curled up in the corner, hugging her knees. 

She couldn't hear what He was doing downstairs. She wouldn't let herself think about how this wouldn't work. It had worked last night. It had to work!

Last night, she had been ready when He came into her room. She was already in her closet. It was a peculiar closet; one that originally had no door and so much space, it had held a large portion of the O'Hara holiday decorations. That is, until Juliet was eight years old, and she begged her parents to let her turn it into her secret room.

After relentless begging, they obliged. They had put the decorations in the attic, and her father had even installed a brand new white door for her. Because of this, when she heard Him enter last night, hissing at her to come out of the hiding place, she was able to hiss back.

_"This is the squeakiest door in the house. If you open it, Mom will wake up."_

She had heard the quiet click of her bedroom door closing, His footsteps as He had went to bed. She had won.

She remembered this memory with pride, and it allowed her to slow her breathing just a little. She listened. He was no longer speaking on the phone, but He wasn't walking up the stairs either. Maybe she really was safe!

Her sense of victory was short lived. She heard His footsteps. "You know, you almost got me, Jay." She began to rock back and forth. She hated His voice so much. "You almost got me." He entered her room. _No!_ He shut her door and turned on the light. She could hear her fan begin to spin around and around. She could see the shadows of His feet getting closer from under the door. 

**_Creak._**

"Do you know what this is, Jay?" He held up a blue can with a red top. She shook her head. He smirked. "It's lubricant, Jay." He leaned down and sprayed the bottom hinge. Then he sprayed the top hinge. Then he tossed the can onto her bed and smiled. He swung the closet door back and forth, and it made no sound.

"You're such an idiot, Jay." He stepped closer, and Juliet knew. There was no winning. She couldn't fight Him. She couldn't trick Him. She couldn't stop Him. 

"Take off your shirt."

She looked up at Him, seemingly glowing from her bedroom light. He was almost like God. No. He _was_ God. He controlled everything. He unzipped His pants. He won. 

So she did what she could do. She gave up. 

"Good girl."


	6. NOW: Al, Mike, and Shawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1597  
> -  
> Shawn finds Juliet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: referenced gun death, child death , child sexual abuse, sexual harassment, and vomiting  
> -  
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading!! Feel free to comment with any of your thoughts or mistakes you saw! Comments WILL make me cry tears of joy. (No pressure :P )

_A child's scream pierced the air._

_"Millie!" Juliet ran towards the girl, ignoring the branches that cut her skin. She heard another scream, louder this time. "Millie!"_

_"Please!"_

_Juliet was so close. She sprinted over rocks, flying over the difficult terrain. The screaming had stopped, but it wasn't needed anymore. Juliet knew where the girl was. Somehow._

_A stream flowed through rocks and branches. She followed it and spotted the top of a blonde head. Juliet checked their surroundings. No one else was here._

_"Millie?" The girl sniffled in response. She was curled up in the stream's pond, head on her knees, arms wrapped her legs._

_She was also naked._

_As soon as Juliet realized this, she trudged forward. She took off her suit jacket and wrapped it around the girl's body. "Millie. I’m here." Millie didn't look up._

_"He hurt me."_

_Juliet sat in the pond beside Millie and gathered the girl's huddled figure into her arms. “You’re safe now, Millie. It's okay." She scanned the area. In a minute, she would call it in. But first, she needed to comfort Millie... and get information._

_"Millie, who hurt you?"_

_The girl’s shoulders became rigid. "I don't want to talk about it!"_

_Juliet's heart melted. Fuck getting information. "He can't hurt you anymore. Millie, look at me. You're safe. "_

_The girl looked up._

_There was a single bullet hole in the center of her forehead._

_"I trusted him, Juliet."_

"Jules!?"

Juliet opened her eyes. Her neck ached from being pushed against the corner of her closet. She groaned as she sat up. Her whole body was angry at her for sleeping on the floor.

Her dream. The stream. The naked ten year old in the pond. Juliet had it memorized. 34°28'17.6"N 119°41'20.1"W: Rattlesnake Canyon Park, off of one of the trails. The location where Millie Johnson had been dumped. It had been found by-

“Jules? I know you’re home! Your car is in the driveway!”

 _Shit._ It was Shawn. Juliet scrambled to get up. She opened her closet door, unsure of what to do next. Pretend to be asleep?

She quickly jumped onto the bed and lay down. A moment later, she heard Shawn push open her bedroom door.

“Jules?”

She pretended the sound had just awoken her. She turned and squinted at him. “Shawn?” 

Shawn was holding a paper bag- the tacos, no doubt. “Hey, Jules.” He sat beside her. “Lassie wouldn’t say what’s up.” He leaned over her, presumably to kiss her, and despite herself, she jerked away.

_You’re such a good slut. ___

He tilted his head to side. Crime Scene Shawn was here. Thinking. Processing. Trying to understand what was happening. He studied her face, and suddenly, she felt embarrassed. God, what, now she couldn’t even be intimate with her boyfriend? 

She pushed herself up and tried to smile. “Sorry, I’m just tired and-”

“Did you sleep in your closet?” Shawn interrupted. In her hurry, she’d left the closet door open... leaving Shawn able to see her blanket and pillow on its floor. She didn’t know how to explain. She didn’t want to explain. 

He glanced at her, then back at her closet. “Jules?”

He sat on the edge of her bed and shifted towards her. He was wearing shorts. His thigh- his skin- brushed against her leg. His hand squeezed her shoulder. A wave of nausea overcame her, and she gagged.

She ran to the bathroom just in time to vomit in the toilet. She hadn't had anything since coffee this morning. Stomach acid burned her throat. _Shit._ Shawn knelt beside her and rubbed her back. She stiffened. Hadn't he seen how she reacted when he touched her? He must... He must not care.

No one could really love her. She had been fooled.

The fight in her drained away, and she leaned against the toilet seat. Shawn hand moved up and down her back. Juliet stared at the bathroom tiles, her eyes widening. _He won. Just let go._ Her body gave up. Her mouth was slightly agape, her eyes staring into nothing. This wasn't the first time. It had happened when He hurt her. When Yin took her. She remembered staring out into the Santa Barbara night, tied to the clock tower. Her soul had given up, too.

Shawn's nervous chatter hit her ears. "Maybe you have a stomach flu? You'd never leave the station unless it was really bad. I can pick up some chicken soup. I wouldn't risk making it. I'd burn the water! That pho place is good, yeah? Don't worry about our fruit loops, I'll take good care of them while you rest... Jules?" He paused for a beat. "Why were you sleeping in the closet?"

The fake concern. She remembered that too; He would ask her what was wrong when she was withdrawn or angry or sick- all, of course, because of Him. Her mother would coo at Him for being so concerned. It was just Juliet acting up again. You know preteens. You know Juliet. She's sad because her father left. She's caught something from school. She's faking it for attention.

Juliet turned to face her boyfriend. Her eyes burned. "I'm already on my knees, Shawn. Just do it." Anger boiled her blood. "Just do it!" 

Shawn stopped rubbing her back. His face twisted. "Babe, don't be mad at me. I don't know what's going on."

"Stop pretending!" An involuntary sob escaped her. "You don't need to be psychic to know I'm- I'm a good girl." She leaned closer and pulled his pants zipper down. She reached for the button, but Shawn clumsily pushed himself away, nearly hitting the sink. "Jules!" Her vision blurred from tears. "I can.. I can do what you want." She started to pull her shirt off. He wanted this, right? She could do it. She would be good so it would be over quicker and it would be okay because she's a good girl a good girl a-

"Juliet! No!"

She looked up at Shawn, who now had one knee on the tile, leaning towards her. He looked as if he was about to propose. She knew he thought about marriage. He thought about marriage with someone smart and strong and whole. Not her. Not who she really was. No one could love the real Juliet O'Hara. 

He inched closer, looking into her eyes. She turned away, staring into the toilet bowl. "Jules, please tell me what's wrong." Her stomach acid was yellow. "Jules! Please." She couldn't look at him. She was an idiot. He didn't want to hurt her. He just loved someone she wasn't was. She didn't deserve him. She had tricked him.

She flushed the toilet.

Her voice was hoarse. "You know why I got transferred from Miami?"

"You... you said you wanted a new start. Somewhere else that had beaches."

"You ever wonder how I got promoted so fast? Why I was put with Carlton from the start?"

"It's because you're smart, Jules. You're the smartest detective in the station." He saw his hand move to squeeze her shoulder, but he hesitated. It hovered in the air.

"I didn't deserve it, Shawn. The captain gave me a stellar review to make up for what my corporal did."

Silence. Maybe he had finally got it. 

"In exchange for s-silence, Shawn."

More silence. She finally looked up at him. His eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Did he hurt you?"

Shawn sounded like he was about to cry.

She remembered that day. They had finished a shift. She'd been boosted up the unofficial ranks to be partnered with him only a week before. She was so proud of herself. She was a cop. A good cop. She was going to protect people.

"I was a slut."

Mike had stopped the cruiser in an alley. He had turned to her and kissed her. She hadn't told him to stop. She had asked. She had asked because good girls ask politely, and she knew if he wanted something he would get it no matter what she said.

_"Please stop."_

"Jules..."

"I had my gun, Shawn! I could've stopped him! I was lucky! I was going to let him rape me!"

He hadn't stopped. He just told her to shut up. He'd been fiddling with his belt when his wife called once, twice, three times until he answered; Mike's daughter had fallen off a tree, and she was in the hospital with a broken arm.

That was the only time Juliet would ever be grateful a little girl got hurt.

"He didn't hurt you?" She heard the slight hint of hope in his voice, a glimmer of relief.

A torrent of suppressed sadness rushed through her. How could she tell him? She began to sob. Her eyes burned. She could tell he so badly wanted her to not be in pain. And she so badly did not want it to be true. She crawled to Shawn, leaning into his chest, desperate for comfort. He pulled her into his arms, not caring that her snot got on his shirt. 

"Jules, shh." He began to rock them back and forth. It was soothing. She felt so guilty for doing this to him. Tears streamed down his face and dropped onto her arm. "You can tell me. I'm going to keep you safe. Jules, I'm never going to hurt you like that. I'm going to keep you safe." 

_Safe._ She gasped, her cries jagged. Her shoulders shook. 

"N- Not him. Before."

She told him the basics. Including His name. 

Shawn held onto her as she wept. 


	7. THEN: What It Means To Be a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1353

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: referenced child sexual abuse and bullying

** Miami, 1995 **

Thirteen-year-old Juliet flinched as the front door was shut. When the fighting had started two hours ago, she had been terrified. She hated it when her mother and Him fought. She was always afraid He'd hurt her even though He never did. He never got in trouble for long. Mom was almost as passive as she was... and He, of course, was so very charming. 

The first time money went missing from Maryanne's purse, she assumed she had dropped it. The second time, she thought one of the boys had taken some without asking. The third time, she suspected her boyfriend. 

Still, he was incredibly kind towards her and all the kids, even if he drank a little too much. It wasn't until one of her necklaces disappeared did she confront him. He slithered his way out of that one- telling her he had a problem and he was working on it, rubbing her shoulders and kissing her so lovingly she was willing to overlook the pick pocketing. 

She overlooked a lot of things: three necklaces, two ring, only God knows how many bills from her wallet. But the engagement ring was the last straw. She was furious. No matter how much she hated Frank O'Hara, she loved that ring. She loved the happy memories it brought her. It was also the most expensive thing she owned... well, had owned. She packed the bag for him and sent him on his way. Al was now an ex-boyfriend.

That was the first night Juliet slept soundly in a year.

-

When Juliet was seven and Ewan was ten, 5th grade bullies decided to pick on Juliet in the playground before school. They called her names. They pulled her pigtails. They pushed her onto the playground equipment.

When Juliet was seven and Ewan was ten, Ewan stood up to those bullies even though he was a year younger than them. He got a black eye and broke a tooth, but to him, it was worth it. "Family protects family, little sis."

When Juliet was seven and Ewan was ten, Juliet swore she would grow up to be like him. When someone did something bad, she would stand up to them. Even if they were bigger than her. Even if she got hurt.

This is why two days after He left, Juliet found herself parking her bike in front of the police station. 

She still believed it was her fault. She'd... let Him hurt her. But it wasn't _just_ her fault, right? And when someone did something bad, you went to the police. And He did something bad. It was against the law- that's what the poster in the library said. And what if He did the bad things to other girls? She didn't want them to be like her. She didn't want them to hurt too.

She opened the door and walked into the lobby. The air conditioning blasted into her face. It was a relief in comparison to the brutal Florida heat, but it was short lived. As soon as she reached the help desk, she felt a flush of heat. She started to sweat. A kind officer looked down at her. Juliet registered her dark hair pulled back. Her black glasses. The officer kind of looked like Wonder Woman when she was in disguise. Juliet could be a hero too. Like Ewan and Wonder Woman. She could be strong like Mom was when she kicked Him out of the house. She could do this.

"Can I help you, young lady?"

Juliet took a deep breath and nodded. "My mom's boyfriend hurt me."

-

Detective Wilson told her he wanted to call her mom.

He waited for some sort of response. Maybe he thought the idea would make her mad since she'd come here herself. Juliet just kept her eyes on the carpet. There was a coffee stain under his chair. The detective was big and his fingers were long... like His were. She knew what men looked like naked. She didn't want to know that, and she didn't want to talk to him. That’s why she had said very little to the detective in the half hour he’d been interviewing her.

_Slut._

"Juliet, how do you feel about that? She doesn’t know, correct?"

She shook her head. "No." 

“I think you’d be more comfortable with her here. You think so?”

She nodded. Not because she agreed, but because he wanted her to.

The detective asked for her mom's number, and she gave it to him because she was a good girl. She didn’t really want her mom to know. Shame burned her cheeks. She wanted to run out of the station. Then she thought about the girls He could hurt. She had to be strong. She waited for her mother. Twenty minutes passed.

Maryanne was wearing her work attire. 

“Baby.” She wrapped her arms around Juliet and kissed the top of her head. 

The detective took them to an interview room. Her mother was shaking. She pulled Juliet back. “You didn’t tell me anything about this, Juliet!” There were tears in her mother’s eyes.

“Please, Mrs. O’Hara, if we can all speak in the interview room.” The detective ushered them inside. They sat down. 

“So, Juliet, do you know the difference between a truth and a lie?”

“Detective!” Juliet’s mother yelled. “How dare you?”

Juliet could see the Wilson’s eyebrows furrow. He knew what he was thinking. _You know preteens._

"I know the difference."

Wilson nodded. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

Juliet kept her gaze on the table in front of her. "Al hurt me."

She heard a squeak and turned. It was her mother, hand over her mouth. 

"Al was your mother's boyfriend?"

She nodded.

"This must be why you've been sick and tired all the time! Fuck!"

The detective let out a small sigh. Juliet could tell her mother's outbursts were annoying Wilson. "Mrs. O'Hara, please. There's procedure here. Where is Juliet's father?"

"He left us."

"I see... Now, Juliet, can you tell me about when Al hurt you?"

_No one will ever believe you, Jay._

"He touched me. He made me touch him." Maryanne silently reached for her daughter's hand and squeezed it. Juliet could hear her erratic breathing: she was trying not to cry.

"When did this happen?"

Maryanne's thumb stroked the top of Juliet's hand. It calmed her. Juliet loved her mother. She didn't want her mother to stop loving her. 

_She will never forgive you for what you've done._

On top of that, her mother had so many things to deal with- paying the bills, working long hours, being a good mom. Juliet couldn't do this to her. She looked up at Detective Wilson. There were bags under his eyes. He had better things to do than this, anyways.

"It didn't. I'm sorry." A year's worth of trauma burst through her, and she let out a sob. "I lied." _I'm lying right now._

The detective pulled her away from her mother. He asked if she was sure. She nodded. She asked her again. She nodded. He asked her if she just did this for attention. She nodded. 

He sighed deeply and got her mother. They were free to go.

"I'm so sorry, Detective. She's had a rough couple of years... Her father left. My ex- before Al- left, and now Al... I'm so sorry for taking up your time." The detective assured her it was fine and ushered them out of the building.

Juliet and her mother silently got into the car. Maryanne stared at the police station for a second, and then turned to Juliet. "I'm disappointed in you." Juliet said nothing. She turned on the engine. "You have O'Hara blood, baby. I guess I couldn't have expected different."

When Juliet was seven and Ewan was ten, Ewan saved his sister from being beat up by schoolyard bullies.

When Juliet was twelve and Ewan was fifteen, their mother's boyfriend began to molest Juliet .

And when Juliet was thirteen and Ewan was sixteen, the youngest O'Hara decided to keep it a secret.

Family protects family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	8. NOW: The Shawn Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 1298

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: references to child sexual abuse and child death

Juliet shifted in the leather seat before calling. Her partner answered after the second ring. She set the call on speaker mode.

“O”Hara... how are you?”

Juliet's freak out in the chief’s office must have really worried him. The last time Carlton had answered the phone with _her_ name rather than his had been three days after Yin took her. That time, she asked him for a ride to work- her car had been left at the station.

This time, she needed information. 

“Lassiter, have there been any leads on the Johnson case?" she asked, ignoring his question. 

The last she heard, the suspect was a convicted child molester who lived a block away from the Johnson house. He had offended with a nine year old girl, white and blonde like Millie. But this was Santa Barbara, California- those physical feature weren't exactly rare.

"O'Hara, you know I can't discuss that."

Additionally, the way Millie had been dumped nagged at Juliet. A single bullet to the head, like an execution. Yet her body had been laid gently in a pond as if she was being put down to rest. Why hadn't the killer buried her? The pond was in full view of anyone on the trail- that's how she had been found. 

"Lassiter. Please."

A long moment passed. 

"You don't need to be thinking about this. Vick has everyone-"

"Did the lab check the underwear again?" She interrupted him. It was the only thing at the crime scene that had prints, which is why she thought the killer dropped it. Even Millie's body was clean; the only thing found from it was bleach- her body had been cleaned. And the bullet left in her skull? They had nothing to match it to. He was careful. The only mistake was the underwear. She needed to make sure they didn't find anything else from it before she did this.

Carlton sighed. "Yes. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Juliet stayed quiet. The nakedness, the cause of death, the bleach, the pond... the entire crime gave mixed signals. She was no psychologist, but she suspected the relationship between Millie and her killer was not one between strangers. 

"We're canvassing around the school and the park and the house. Again. We're going over statements. The entire department is on overtime. No stone's being left unturned, O'Hara. Don't worry."

"So it wasn't the guy in her in neighborhood."

Silence. He might as well have answered. There wasn't any evidence tying that predator- or anyone- to the crime.

"O'Hara, there's a briefing before the vigil starts. Are you sure you're all right? Are you headed to there?"

"I'm fine. I decided not to go. I'm just going to watch _Gilmore Girls_.You have to go. I got it." She looked out the car window to the house across the street. "I'm sorry about leaving you with this."

"Don't worry about it. Do what you have to do."

**_Beep._**

Juliet rested her head on the steering wheel. She hated lying to her partner. She felt Shawn lightly touch her shoulder. Even though it had been a week since she had fallen asleep in the closet and cried in his arms, she knew he was still a little scared to touch her. "Jules? Are you going to tell us why we've been staking out the Johnson's house now?"

Shawn had been at home with her when she realized she needed to be here. With the vigil, it was perfect timing. She didn't know where Gus had been, but when she called, saying it was urgent, he had reached Juliet's house in record time. She had rushed them over without an explanation. Juliet kept her head on the steering wheel. She was crazy. Her idea was crazy.

She wasn't surprised when Gus spoke from the backseat. He hated silence. He continued the argument Shawn and him had been having while Juliet was building the nerve to call Lassiter. "There's no reason you should be in the front, Shawn."

"Gus, don't be the week old bag of grapes I found in my backpack. I called shotgun. Anyways, what would you do, use your supersniffer to sniff out suspicious behavior? Hmm. Say that three times: supersniffer to sniff out suspicious behavior; supersniffer to-"

"I swear to God, Shawn! You just wanted to sit next to your girlfriend. I can't see _anything_ from here!"

"I can't do this with you right now. Don't-"

"Guys!" Juliet yelled. She twisted to glare at the two of them. "Shut up!"

She had already heard them go back and forth for half an hour, and she didn't have anymore patience for their normal banter. "We're trying to solve the rape and murder of a ten year old. Just stop!"

They stopped.

Shawn spoke up first. "Lassie said nothing was out of the ordinary on the... clothes. What isn't out of the ordinary?"

Juliet not only knew who wasn't out of the ordinary, she had met them. "Finger prints from her family, Shawn. Dad died in Iraq. It's her mom, grandparents, and uncle. He's been there or the past two years after he was discharged."

There was silence again as the trio watched the house, the two men pondering what Juliet was implying. "You think the uncle did it?" Shawn said quietly.

 _I trusted him, Juliet._

"The school's only a half mile away," Juliet answered. "Lassiter and I were here when school let out the day after they found her. It's so packed with parents. Someone would have remembered seeing a stranger walk up to Millie. Especially if it was a man, which we know it probably was." Juliet shut her eyes for a moment. Al's grinning face exploded in her mind. Shawn squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb on her knuckles. It grounded her. She remembered her mother doing that in the police station, so long ago. She would get justice for Millie. In the words of her partner, she had to "do what she had to do." 

She opened her eyes and continued. "All witnesses stated they saw Millie walking home all right. We only assumed it wasn't the uncle because he had an alibi. His buddy at the bar was from his unit. They stick together. It's not like we looked too much into it. He seemed so caring and concerned. No one thinks it's in the home. Even the department's biased." 

Gus piped up. "The report said that the entire family helped with the household chores because the mom was working a lot. Grandparents are on Social Security, and the uncle's unemployed. That's why his prints were on her... underwear" 

Juliet shook her head. "It's an alibi. They all helped fold laundry, so it wasn't a red flag, right? I feel this in my gut. I need proof. We need to do this like you guys do."

At that, Shawn punched the air the best he could in the car. "I knew that's why you wanted us here! You need to do this the Shawn Way! Psych is back in business, baby." He and Gus did a fist bump, and Juliet couldn't help but smile a little. She had really thought this man was a psychic until three months ago. In reality, he was just playing Sherlock with his best buddy. Such a dork.

She saw movement across the street. "Look." The three watched a black-clad Sandra Johnson, her parents, and her brother walk from the front door to a sedan in the driveway. As the mourning family got into the vehicle and drove towards the vigil, the mood in Juliet's car sobered. The reality of what was happening hit them. Shawn tried to lift their spirits by smiling. His smile was crooked.

"Time to break the law, Jules! Let's go!"


	9. THEN: Clinical Notes Taken by Dr. Akua (2001)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 183

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: therapy (POV of therapist who isnt evil or anything). Skipable chapter if this bother you :)

UNIVERSITY OF MIAMI PSYCHOLOGICAL SERVICES

> Psychologist: Dr. Sophia Akua 
> 
> Client Name:  Juliet Lynn O'Hara 
> 
> Client Student ID: C504493801 

* * *

**_Session Number_ _:_ _1_**

**_02/05/2001_ **

Completed intake with client. Noteworthy symptoms include hyperarousal (specifically, insomnia and difficulty in concentration), feeling emotionally numb, and lack of interest in once enjoyed activities. Attached is the full intake form, including possible diagnoses. 

* * *

**_Session Number: 2_ **

**_02/12/2001_ **

Client reports difficulty with schoolwork due to difficulty in concentration. Engaged client in exploration of healthy habits and coping mechanisms. 

* * *

**_Session Number: 3_ **

**_02/19/2001_ **

Client was observed to be anxious during session, evident by a lack of eye contact and stiff body posture. Engaged client in identifying the cause of anxiety. Client disclosed having nightmares and intense fear of sexual assault by male peers. Client refused to engage during the remainder of the session. 

* * *

**_Session Number: 4_ **

**_02/26/2001_ **

Client failed to arrive to the scheduled session. 

* * *

_**Final Notes** _

Client did not reach out to schedule any more appointments. Information of University resources available and suggestions for long-term psychological services were sent through the counseling center.


	10. NOW: The Crimes of Ethan White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 2,527  
> -  
> Juliet, Shawn, and Gus break into a house pretty easily. Thanks, Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: referenced child sex abuse, child death, and grooming  
> -  
> i made the Johnson/White Family military because i needed a reason for Millie's dad to be out of the picture; so nothing against military families 😅 <3 also yes the title is a reference to the first movie :P

Juliet was not surprised to learn that neither Shawn nor Gus knew how to pick a lock.

The two were surprised to learn that Juliet did.

“Frank taught me.” She told them, jimmying the lock with a _Bed Bath & Body Works_ card. “I was seven,” she added. **Click.** She swung open the door.

“Jules, I LOVE you!” Shawn leaped forward to kiss her, and she flinched. A line formed across his forehead as he furrowed his eyebrows. "Jules... you okay?" Shawn started to ramble nervously. "We can turn back, or you can wait in the car, if you think-" She pecked him on the lips. She wished she didn't think about Him- Al, she reminded herself- when she did. But she also knew this kiss was different. It was one she consented to. 

“It’s okay. Let’s go.”

Gus, unaware as always, pushed through them with a grin. "Juliet O'Hara, you are a goddess! I thought we would have to climb through a window like last time!"

The trio made their way into the living room. Juliet checked the time. "The vigil starts at eight. That leaves us with at least an hour and a half. I think we should find the uncle's bedroom and work from there."

She might as well had talked to the wall; Shawn and Gus were bickering, again, and she could feel anger rising within her. Where was the Shawn a second ago, so serious and concerned? She let out a huff, feeling like an angry child. _Focus_ _, Juliet._

She had been here before with Lassiter. CSU had gone through Millie's room, and the detectives had done interviews. It had led nowhere, but because of it, she knew Ethan White's bedroom was on the second floor. She stomped her way up, angry at Shawn, angry at Gus, angry at herself for remembering the stairs in her childhood home. She had gotten kicked off the case for remembering things. She wouldn't let herself waste time now. Not right now.

Ethan's bedroom was a mess. Juliet scanned the room. There were beer bottles on the nightstand, dirty clothes on the floor. Hanging on the wall was a framed Purple Heart. Ethan White had been honorably discharged after saving two members of his unit and suffering from a major traumatic brain injury. And here Juliet was, accusing him of child murder. And rape.

It was crazy. But Juliet trusted her gut.

Yet as she looked through the room with gloved hands, it was her stomach that was dropping. There was nothing out of the ordinary. What she found under the mattress was _A Guide to Living with PTSD,_ not kiddie porn. The only photo of Millie was one on the dresser. Juliet picked it up. Ethan, his sister, and his niece held fishing poles by a creek; they smiled brightly up at her. Ethan's arm was slung around Millie, and she wasn't shrinking away. Nothing in this room told her Ethan was the killer. Her theory wasn't holding water.

Juliet wasn't willing to leave the house just yet, so she walked down to the next bedroom. A paper was stuck on the front, closer to Juliet's hip than her eyes. On it, in blue marker, was a name.

**🌸MILLIE🌸**

Juliet stared at the pink flowers drawn on the sign, then opened the door.

It looked like a normal 10-year-old girl's bedroom: a pink fluffy rug on the floor, a white bookshelf, a toy chest, a dresser, and posters of celebrities Juliet didn't know hanging on the wall. The first thing that caught Juliet's eye was a wooden jewelry box on top of the dresser. The detective opened it. There was nothing fancy, but she could tell that Millie had cared greatly for the twenty dollar necklaces and cheap plastic rings she had. Juliet shut the box and moved on. 

Shawn and Gus entered the room as Juliet finished looking through the closet. She had found nothing. Just like in Ethan's room.

Shawn held out a handful of Fruit Loops to her. "Want some?"

She shook her head and moved to the bookshelf. Maybe she would be lucky. Maybe she could find a diary. 

"We didn't find anything downstairs except for cereal and tons of casserole." Shawn swerved to avoid Gus, who was trying to grab the remaining Fruit Loops in Shawn's hand. "Gus didn't let me touch those."

Gus wiped his hands on his pants and stood up straight. "Can we help you?" he asked, shooting an angry glance at Shawn.

"I'm just looking around. We didn't find anything last time, but... " Juliet sighed. "I know there's something here. Just help me look. And put on the gloves I gave you guys, will you?

She turned away and flipped through another book. A Scooby Doo mystery. That made Juliet's heart hurt. She loved Scooby Doo as a kid.

"Oh, my God! Look at this American Girl! These are worth like $100!" Shawn was looking through the toy box in the corner. Gus slapped his arm. Juliet knew that joking around was Shawn's way of staying focused, so she said nothing and continued to look through the books.

Gus knew this about his best friend too. "What! Nice! You think... you think they'd notice if we took it?!" He was struggling to keep up a comedic tone. Juliet guessed the facts of the case had caught up to him. But he still tried. "We could sell it online to pay rent!"

Juliet expected to hear a witty response, but there was none. For a moment, there was silence. Gus, of course, was the one to break it. "Why are you staring at that doll, man?"

"She felt like a prisoner." Shawn whispered, so quiet and unlike... well, _Shawn_. She turned to look. Shawn picked up a doll from the stack and held it out to her.

It was blonde. It wore a string necklace and a yellow dress. It's mouth was covered with duck tape. "It was hidden under the others," Shawn noted. "And... look." He unraveled the string until he reached the end, and Juliet realized it wasn't a necklace. It was a collar, tied tightly. He looked upward at the ceiling fixture and then back at the yarn in his hands. "She could tie it up to the light if she stood on her bed." He held the string out to exhibit it to Gus and Juliet, then gently wrapped it back around the doll's neck.

It reminded Juliet of something. _Juliet sat at the kitchen table after school when He came up from behind her. "Hey, Jay!" He said cheerfully. He placed His hand on her shoulder and ignored her when she shrunk away. He set something in front of her: a doll. "I got it for you, Jay!" He kissed the top of her head. She looked up to see her mother smiling warmly at the scene._

_That night, He hurt her again. When it was morning, she took off the doll's clothes and hurt it too._

Juliet stepped forward and took the doll from Shawn's grasp. She pulled the doll's dress upward. It had been stabbed with a pencil between its legs, on its stomach, and on the little lumps on its chest. There were scratches and marks made with a red marker. The doll was a projection of Millie's pain.

"Oh, my God. How did you know she did that, Juliet?" Gus asked.

Shawn knew how. He gently touched her cheek, and while she felt a hole of nothing in her chest, she saw that his eyes were watery. Juliet watched a tear fall down his cheek in silence.

Suddenly, she thought of something else. She pushed the doll into Shawn's hands and ran to the bed. She ripped the blanket and sheets off of it, exposing the bare mattress underneath. It was stained with urine. 

"Bedwetting." Gus said gravely, his attempts of comedy long forgotten. "A sign of sex abuse." He shook his head in disgust. "There were no signs of abuse other than right before she was killed. Didn't like three ME's come to look at the body? How did no one see?"

Juliet pulled the sheet and blanket back. "There are a lot of ways to abuse a kid."

They went back to searching the room, all hoping for some tangible evidence. After what seemed like forever and nothing at the same time, Juliet checked her watch. 8:24. They'd spent nearly an hour in the house and had found nothing. "We need to get out of here soon." She imagined a sobbing Rebecca Johnson, without her husband or her child, coming home early to find them here. That would be a shit show.

They were all frustrated at finding nothing. No diary. No secret note. No blood. Gus and Shawn went to look over the uncle's room, but she doubted they would find anything. On a whim, Juliet checked the drawers again, looking through the clothes this time. Maybe she'd find a hair? Though a hair could be explained- the whole family helped with laundry, after all- she was desperate.

Her hand hit something small and cold, hidden in Millie's socks. She pulled it out. A locket. Juliet started to shake. Something was up; Millie should have put this in her jewelry box. Juliet opened it. In the picture, Millie- who couldn't be more than three- was on the shoulders of her grandfather, with her grandmother at his side. She closed it and turned it around.

It was engraved. 

**_To Millie_**

**_From Granddad_ **

Nausea rushed up her stomach into Juliet's throat. She bent over and choked down bile. She was right. She was right. She was right. 

"Guys!" she yelled. _"SHAWN!"_ She quickly put the locket back and ran from the room. She opened the door next to Millie's. The master bedroom. Rebecca Johnson's. No. This was wrong. She closed the door and went to the next room. Here it was.

"Jules!" She heard Gus and Shawn's footsteps come up from behind her. "Jules?" Shawn put his hand on the small of her back, and she shrunk away. He quickly moved his hand away. "Jules?"

"It was the grandfather," she managed to choke out. Juliet rushed into the bedroom. "We need evidence." 

They found nothing out of the ordinary in the room; Millie's grandfather- a decorated Vietnam war veteran- was smart. In the end, it was Gus who thought of the way Millie died. Shawn was the one who found the gun safe in the basement, and Juliet was the one who opened it. (Thanks, Frank.) They had found a ghost gun. The smoking gun.

She put it back, and the trio ran out of the house. It was just in time. The family returned from the vigil at 9:07 PM, accompanied by Lassiter and the Chief. Perfect. Shawn wouldn't even have to call them.

Juliet reminded Gus and Shawn to take off their latex gloves, and at the last moment, that the locket was in the dresser. Not that it would be needed- or even useful- for an arrest. Juliet just hoped Shawn uncovering it would allow it to be taken out of Millie's room. It didn't need to be there.

Gus and Shawn ran to the house, and Juliet waited in the car. She didn't want any questions about her presence. Her leg bopped up and down and her hand gripped the wheel. She barely blinked while watching through the window. Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. And then, _finally,_ she saw it.

Ethan White Sr. was cuffed and being led out by Lassiter, White's family close behind. She could see Carlton's lips moving, reciting the last bit of the Miranda Warning. He shoved the 61-year-old killer in the backseat of the cruiser and closed the door. He looked back out at the house for a moment, and then took out his phone. 

To her surprise, Juliet's phone rang. She answered. "Lassiter?"

"O'Hara." He paused. "I just called to tell you we made an arrest in the Johnson case. The grandfather. The lab's going to check things, but your boyfriend made a pretty convincing argument about him being guilty. I'm sure he'll fill you in."

"Yeah."

"I just wanted to let you know. We got him, Juliet. It's over. I have to go now and interview everyone." He paused again, and in the distance, she could see him start to pace. "I don't know what's happened, but I want you to know I got your back, all right?"

Juliet smiled as tears started to spill down her face. She sniffed back snot. "Thanks, Carlton. Maybe I can tell you about it soon."

-

There was no trial. To "spare his family the pressure of trial," Ethan White Sr. took a plea deal: three continuous life sentences, with no parole, to escape the death penalty. Juliet suspected he opted out to save his own skin, but she was okay with it. No need for the violent facts of Millie's life and death to be aired out for the public yet again. They were already on the internet.

Since she hadn't returned to work yet, and she didn't want to bother Shawn with it, she found an article- easily. Ethan White Sr. had been a master at abusing without leaving a scratch, but he'd snapped when Millie threatened to tell her mother. He raped and killed her and hiked over a mile in the dead of the night to hide her body. He had then gone home and slept soundly. His wife confessed to lying about their alibi. The gun only had his prints on it, and it matched the bullet lodged in Millie's head. He would never get out of prison. His son, daughter, and wife would never visit him. It was over.

Shawn gently kissed Juliet's forehead. "Jules, want to stop looking at that article and go get ice cream?" She turned and smiled at him, but it was a little forced, and he could tell.

He sat down besides her on the bed. She'd just started sleeping in the bed again. She had spent nearly three weeks sleeping in the closet. Shawn refused to sleep on the bed alone, so he slept besides her. Memories of Al hadn't magically disappeared since White's arrest, and there had been multiple times Shawn had to comfort her after a nightmare. She had been flinching at every damn sound and nearly attacked a man who got too close to her at the grocery store. But she was sleeping on the bed. Her and Shawn's bed. It was progress.

Next Monday, she would start work again- in City Hall, for awhile. Therapy started on Tuesday. And eventually, she would get back to solving the crimes of Santa Barbara. But there was no rush. 

"What's up?" Shawn touched her arm lightly. She suddenly felt so much love for him. She wrapped her arms around him. They hugged. "Are you okay now, Jules?"

Juliet rested her chin on his shoulder. "Not yet. But I'm going to be." She released him, stood, and smiled a genuine smile. "Time for some soft serve."

**The End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for reading this fic. It's the first fanfic I wrote... ever! I'm so happy to be a part of the Psych fandom :D
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear from y'all with any thoughts you have or mistakes you saw (I'm a stickler for grammar.) So feel free to comment if you would like!


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